


hot caramel

by deathlytireddan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Depression, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12471976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathlytireddan/pseuds/deathlytireddan
Summary: There aren’t a lot of ways this could turn out. A couple are bad and the rest are varying degrees of good.-There’s a universe where they still meet. It just takes a little longer.





	hot caramel

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know. I was bored. 
> 
> Enjoy it.

The first time they meet is in a Tesco. 

The shelves are overstocked; Dan doesn’t walk too close encase he knocks a can off. 

Phil is sweeping. His plastic name tag is pinned crookedly to his fading blue uniform. He looks just like a tired twenty-something working the night shift should. 

Dark blue circles under drooping eyelids, shiny forehead partly concealed by a black fringe. When he turns in the right direction Dan can see mousy brown roots.

Phil doesn’t notice him and Dan tears his eyes away, picking up too-green bananas his hand had been hovering near. 

Phil never notices, busy sweeping something off the floor, and Dan pretends it was nothing. 

His friends are waiting outside.

-

The second time, Dan is a little more awake and Phil’s hair is newly blue-black. Dan writes that thought in his phone before it can escape. 

Dan is a writer of some kind, or trying to be. He thought it would work out but maybe it’s not. He’s trying not to think of that. 

Dan is trying not to think of a lot.

Phil looks up, still sweeping the floor but looking more awake. There’s a tiny bit of cream on his pale lower lip.

“Do you need something?” His voice is surprisingly northern and deep, rumbling low and quiet in Dan’s chest. 

“Er-bananas?” 

Phil blinks and sets his broom down somewhere. Dan wonders why he even remembers Phil’s name after only glimpsing it for the briefest of moments. 

The plastic name tag is more crooked than ever. 

“Right over there,” Phil says, pointing a few feet away from Dan. 

Dan doesn’t blush easily but he comes close. Phil has that blank, too-wide smile people always have when talking to stupid customers. 

“Uh. Sorry. Thank you, Phil.” 

Shit. Fuck. 

Dan’s hands wave around uselessly. “I mean-I saw your name tag a while ago.”

They both stare at each other. The blank, too-wide smile is replaced by something a bit smaller, a bit more real.

“I think I saw you, too. The other night.” Phil says, picking up his broom again. 

Dan picks up his bananas and clutches them like a drowning man. “I better buy these! My grandma is in the car. Um. Yeah. Thank you.” 

He leaves before he can embarrass himself even more. Phil will probably go home and tell his entire family about the weirdo stalker he met at work. 

Phil’s eyes are dark blue.

-

His grandma is looking at a sudoku puzzle intently, tortoiseshell glasses balanced on her nose. She looks up when he opens the car door and sits down heavily.

“Are you alright, dear?” 

“Yes. No. I’m an idiot.” 

She hums, setting her pencil in the spine of the sudoku book and closing it. “Why is that?”

“There was this man-“ she raises her eyebrows at this, looking amused. He rolls his eyes. “-and I asked where the bananas were when they were right in front of me!” He gestures to the steering wheel for emphasis. 

Then Dan realizes he’s sat on the bananas.

This isn’t even his car. He’s renting it to drive his grandma around London.

“Fuck-I mean frick-I-sorry grandma!” 

Dan finds they aren’t that squished and the car looks alright. 

“Sorry,” he says again. 

“We’re both adults, Daniel,” she says, a bit wrly. “Now tell me about this boy.” 

-

The third time isn’t in a Tesco and it isn’t even near a Tesco. 

Dan is in a shopping center. He’s found a new (cheap) suit and an extra two bottles of dry hair shampoo. 

He is passing a candle store, walking slowly as he peers at the different glass containers and candle colors. The scent wafting out of it is overwhelming. 

He sees Phil.

Phil is facing him, reading the back of a dark red candle. He looks up, eyes widening comically. 

Dan opens and closes his mouth. This is strange, even for him. Coincidences are a thing, he knows. 

Still. 

He enters the candle store, not knowing what else to do. His nose twitches, politely telling him he has approximately three minutes before he snots on Phil.

“Hi,” Dan says awkwardly. 

Phil smiles awkwardly, still holding the dark red candle. He looks concerned.

“I’m not-I’m not stalking you. I swear.”

Phil sets the candle down on the very edge of the shelf. Dan tries not to push it back. 

“I believe you,” Phil says. His eyes are very pale and very grey in the light. 

“Good.”

Dan shifts, unsure how to proceed. Something about Phil is interesting. Not interesting in the way most people are interesting to Dan. He is a writer, after all.

Phil is thought provoking. Intriguing. A little distant, in a carefully controlled way. 

Most people are boring.

Dan bites his lip. Phil’s eyes might track the movement. Maybe. 

“Do you want lunch?” 

It’s Phil who asks the question, surprisingly. Maybe Dan isn’t the only intrigued one. 

He nods, smiling. Grinning. “Yes, that sounds good.” 

He sneezes.

-

Phil orders a sugary drink from Starbucks and dumps more sugar into it when it’s finally done. Dan watches with amusement and slight concern. 

His own drink takes just a minute. 

They settle at a table in a corner, two plates of fish and chips and two coffees between them. 

“Is this stereotypical?” Dan asks around a mouthful of food. He’d feel embarrassed if Phil wasn’t doing the same.

Phil shrugs, swallowing. “Isn’t Starbucks an American thing?”

“Is it?” Dan wonders. It probably is. 

“I think so,” Phil says.

“Have you been to America?” 

“We-my family and I go to Florida every year.” Phil wipes his mouth on a paper napkin. “Have you?” 

“A couple times.” 

Phil automatically said “we.” Dan files that information away. Why does he, though? 

-

They exchange phone numbers. 

Dan’s heart doesn’t flutter when Phil asks for his phone and it doesn’t warm when he sees Phil walk back into the candle store and pick up that red candle.

-

Dan waits until he leaves and enters the store, buying the candle without smelling it. 

-

They’ve known each other for almost a month when Dan invites Phil to his flat.

He barely stops it from sounding like something else. Like another sort of invitation. They’d laughed it off, each feeling a disappointment they didn’t know what to do with.

Dan thinks Phil is attractive, in a way a lot of other people aren’t. He’s smart, in a kind of way a lot of other people aren’t. 

Phil has two degrees and doesn’t completely know what he wants.

Phil is working at a Tesco some nights because he’s taking sign language classes and that doesn’t fit with his carefully constructed budget.

Phil wanted to be a weatherman when he was a kid but he works for one instead. 

So Dan cleans furiously. Even the toilet and his bedsheets, for reasons he’s trying not to think about.

There aren’t a lot of ways this could turn out. A couple are bad and the rest are varying degrees of good. 

Phil knocks a few minutes before he’s expected, a few minutes before Dan has remembered to order pizza or that he needs to change the stinky rubbish under his sink. 

“Coming!” He calls, desperately spraying aerosol into the rubbish bin. 

He pats his hair and opens the door. Phil is wearing a pale blue button down shirt and skinny jeans. His hair comes to a perfect point near his eyebrow.

“Hey!” Phil says. He’s holding a plastic container of cupcakes balanced on top of two pizza boxes. “I hope you didn’t buy food already?” He peers passed Dan into the kitchen.

His eyes are green.

“No! No.” Dan adjusts his hair, opening the door wider. “I forgot to.” He smiles sheepishly and takes the cupcakes from Phil.

-

They eat too much pizza and all but one cupcake.

Now they are sitting on the sofa, long legs stretched out together and the tv a quiet murmur in the background. The cracked windows send in the smell of rain and petrol from the street.

Phil has found an article on interesting animal facts and is reading it aloud. Dan’s head is tilted toward him, dark eyes watching intently.

“Camels can survive for six months without water,” Phil says, lips curved up.

“Is that true?” Dan is suspicious. He googles it, leaning closer to Phil all the while. 

“I’m the expert!” Phil sounds playfully offended. 

“Oh, are you?” 

Dan doesn’t worry about teasing too much or sounding too harsh. Phil can take it and send back something worse. 

Dan looks at him, a smile on his mouth that doesn’t want to leave. Phil is looking back, eyes darkening.

“Hi,” Phil says, trying for romantic and coy.

“Hi yourself.”

-

Phil’s kisses are urgent and wet.

His skin is hot.

His fingertips on Dan’s neck, back, thighs, are burning rivers. 

-

“Are you okay?” 

Phil is tracing a faint red mark on Dan’s jaw. It was accidental, mostly.

Dan nods, eyes dropping closed. Fingertips brush under his eyes, follow the line of dark lashes. A thumb presses into a dark, blue-black circle. 

“You need to sleep more,” Phil says. His voice is hoarse and sleepy, filling the thin space between them. 

“Okay, mum.” 

It’s barely late afternoon but Dan wants to trap Phil in this quiet place forever. 

“Do you have to leave?” He asks. Casual. They are both adults with their own lives. 

“No,” Phil says happily, touching a pierced earlobe. “I’ve never seen you wear earrings.” 

Dan’s heart warms. He can stay.

“I have these black, like, circles. Disks.” Dan gestures uselessly. “And a few other ones. I just forget.” 

“When did you get them done?” 

Dan groans. He just wants to sleep. “I don’t know. Uh. I was fifteen. After I had a fight with this boy at my grandma’s church.”

Phil tenses beside him, withdrawing his hand. 

Dan’s eyes blink open. “What?” He reaches across and rests a hand on Phil’s side. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” Phil smiles sheepishly. “I just-hate people like that.” 

“So do I.”

Dan shifts forward and kisses Phil’s nose. Trying for romantic. “Don’t think about that right now.” He hooks a shin over Phil’s knee and scoots under Phil’s chin. “Cuddle me?”

Phil laughs through his nose, hand moving to rest on Dan’s spine. They don’t speak for a long minute and a half, breathing in deodorant and hair spray and fading, distant cologne.

“I feel like I’ve always known you,” Phil admits.

Dan’s heart catches on something. “I know.” He smiles against Phil’s breastbone. “Stay here forever?” 

“I’ll do my best.” Phil laughs through his nose again. It’s a funny, nasally sound like a pig or a pug.

He’s always laughing like that.

-

Phil leaves the next morning, looking concerned.

Dan eats a banana and climbs back into bed.

-

Days days later Dan calls Phil, asks him to visit again. He doesn’t clean everything, doesn’t try to conceal the dark under his eyes or the dishes piled in the sink. 

Phil comes in warily, holding another cupcake container. 

His eyes are yellow.

“Are you okay?” He asks timidly, hands fluttering uselessly. Like he wants to touch Dan, to comfort him.

Dan sinks into his arms. 

The cupcake container is dropped somewhere. Phil’s arms circle Dan’s waist, rubbing gentle patterns. He’s steady. 

“I’m sorry, Phil,” Dan says, breathing quickly. He sniffs into Phil’s shirt. 

“Shhh.” 

Dan clutches the back of Phil’s shirt. “You weren’t too worried, were you?” He already knows the answer and hopes it’s different.

“Only a little,” Phil says wrly. 

Dan laughs wetly. “Only a little.” 

They stand there for a long time. The kitchen clock ticks, a dish shifts in the sink, Dan’s breathing slowly relaxes. 

They move to the lounge and sit on the sofa. Eat squished cupcakes with spoons because Dan doesn’t have clean forks. 

“I’m depressed, I guess,” he says finally. “I’m better than I used to be.” He doesn’t meet Phil’s gaze, studying a bit of frosting stuck to his spoon. “I’ve gotten help.”

“I assumed,” Phil says. He doesn’t sound afraid, or hurt. “You should have told me. Before we had sex.”

Dan flinches and lowers his head. “I know. I’ve never had to tell anyone like this and-it sounds terrible but the thought never crossed my mind? Or. It did.” He sighs, frustrated. “It’s not who I am and I don’t want it to be. I’m happy. I can be happy.” 

He looks up at Phil. “You make me happy.”

Phil licks frosting off his own spoon. “You said you got help?” He still doesn’t sound hurt. Interested, maybe.

“Yeah. A couple years ago.” Dan shifts uncomfortably. 

“I’m glad you did.” Phil sets his spoon down and crowds into Dan’s space. “I still wish you told me.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Phil laces their fingers together and studies Dan’s chipped, pale blue fingernails. “You’ll have to buy me a lot of Starbucks for this.”

Dan’s lips twitch. He rests his head on Phil’s shoulder, the fatigue of the last few days chasing away his brief adrenaline. 

“It’s not usually this bad anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. I don’t take antidepressants anymore. I’ve been seeing a therapist for three years.” 

Phil nods and curls an arm around Dan’s side. “Do you need a nap?”

“Please.” 

They’ll talk more later. When they’ve eaten something healthy and rested and rested some more, Dan will whisper and Phil will whisper back.

-

They aren’t perfect, but somehow they’re perfect for each other. 

-

The first time they’re in a Tesco while they know each other isn’t for a while. 

They go to films, first. Phil buys Dan ridiculous birthday presents and takes him to a gimmicky store where one can create their own candle scent. 

They exist, separate and together. 

But, eventually, one thing leads to another. 

-

“We don’t need a pack of-“ Dan leans over Phil’s shoulder to see the pack of sponges he’s holding, “-a pack of sixteen sponges!” 

Phil pouts, reluctantly putting them down. “But they have frogs on them.” 

“Fiiiine.” Dan tosses the frog sponges into their shopping cart. He leaves his chin hooked over Phil’s shoulder for another second, breathing him in.

“Don’t snot on me,” Phil complains, turning around. They're in the middle of a Tesco but it’s night-time and empty. The florescent lighting makes them look pale and washed out. 

“I’ll snot on you when I like,” Dan retorts. 

It’s nearing a new day; he’s tired. He’s tired and giddy and his lungs are pressing against his ribcage. 

“We have our own flat, Phil.” 

Phil laughs. “Did it take you that long?”

“Well, we’ve only had it for a few hours.”

“True.”

Dan tilts his head and brushes their lips together. He used to find the smacking sound embarrassing, even indecent, when he was young. Now it’s comforting, comfortable, normal. 

“I’m going to trap you and keep you forever.”

It’s Phil that says it, surprisingly. Or not. 

“Not if I trap you first.” Dan opens his eyes slowly, blinking in the bright Tesco lighting. 

Phil’s eyes are yellow-blue-green. Molten and warm. 

“We should buy something with caramel,” Dan says.

-

Phil is warm, careful, gentle. 

He’s kindness wrapped in soft clothes and hot skin. 

He’s something Dan didn’t know was missing but, now, can’t ever lose.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment telling me if you liked this random thing? :)
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](https://nostalgiclondon.tumblr.com)


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